


Picking Wildflowers

by srmiller



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, Canon Divergent, F/M, Flash Fic, Fluff, but barely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-11
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-23 13:57:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9660263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/srmiller/pseuds/srmiller
Summary: bellamy gives clarke a flower while she tells him to stop being overprotective





	

“It’s a natural instinct,” Bellamy argued.

Clarke sighed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I realize that, but you need to reign in the over protective big brother crap, okay? It’s driving Octavia crazy and it’s driving me crazy.”

Bellamy plucked a bloom from a nearby plant and handed it to her, something he did often without realizing it, this one was blue with white veins and smelled like vanilla.

“She’s my baby sister.”

Pulling her attention back to the conversation Clarke looked up to meet Bellamy’s eyes. “She’s not a baby anymore.”

“It was my job to protect her for the first fifteen years of her life,” he reminded her. “It’s not something I can just turn off because Octavia decided she wants to play Romeo and Juliet with a grounder.”

“Who and who?”

Bellamy waved away her question. “I’ll explain it to you later.”

“Fine, if you can’t turn it off can you at least turn it down?”

He sighed and ran a hand through the unruly waves of hair which desperately needed a cut. “I’m not making any guarantees, but I promise to at least try.”

“Thank you.”

Walking back to camp she slipped in to her tent, after escaping the Mountain the 100 had settled in a new place and while most of the group had gone to work building a fence and shelter she and Bellamy had gone scouting, stumbling across debris which had been scattered as the Ark had burned up in the atmosphere.

What they’d found inside the titanium box was something neither of them had ever expected to see again.

Books.

Clarke had sorted through the science journals and carefully picked five she thought would be the most useful but when she glanced at Bellamy she saw him holding a single volume, staring at the cover as his hand moved over the leather with something akin to reverence and she’d realized these were more than packets of words and information to him.

It was buried treasure.

Eventually she saw him slide the book, she’d briefly caught the words _Alexander_ and _Empire_ on the spine, in to his pack along with a handful of others till it was nearly bursting and almost too heavy to carry.

But he wasn’t done, she watched as he used the twine they’d brought with them to bind two piles of books and Clarke’s lips quirked as she read the titles, “Harry Potter and the Chronicles of Narnia?”

He looked up with unapologetic shrug. “Something for the kids.”

 _Damn it,_ she hadn’t thought of the kids. She’d only looked for what was useful, what was necessary, but of course Bellamy who had all but raised his sister would think of the children.

They’d need stories too.

“Here,” she reached out a hand. “Let me take one.”

The kids enjoyed the stories each night, almost as much as Octavia enjoyed reading to them and while Clarke had picked her books for their usefulness they were now used for the impractical and foolish.

Pulling down her anatomy book she opened to a random page and laid the bloom Bellamy had given her between the delicate pages, shutting it carefully so as not to ruin the petals or leaves.

It was seventeenth flower Bellamy had given her.

Not that she was counting.


End file.
